


Dutch's Woman

by lahijadelmar



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Making Love, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 19:56:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16541150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lahijadelmar/pseuds/lahijadelmar
Summary: Mary-Beth shows up in Arthur's room one night in the Shady Belle with a difficult question. Slight RDR 2 spoilers for idk...chapter 4 or 5? Nothing major. Mentions of Mary Linton.





	Dutch's Woman

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know if these two are OTP??? But they're definitely cute and I felt they deserved this. Wrote this kind of quickly in a flurry of inspo and tried my best to proofread it but I don't PROMISE it's flawless ok

Maybe at camp in those open air tents it wouldn’t have felt so scandalous to see Mary Beth sitting on his bed; maybe if it been back then, before Dutch had set his sights on her, it wouldn’t have felt so  _ wrong _ , but here, in this house, seeing her wait in anticipation in his  _ room _ felt less genteel. Arthur didn’t have anything but honorable intentions for all the women in the camp, those to whom he felt so protective even as he knew they could handle  _ anything _ , but even so, Mary Beth couldn’t just go wandering into any man’s room she pleased these days. Rules had changed where she was concerned.

 

She all but gasped, “Arthur…!” 

 

“Mary Beth…” he greeted, polite as he could possibly be under the circumstances. 

 

“I’m sorry, I know this is a bit forward of me but I didn’t think you’d let me come in if I asked outright.”

 

He surveyed her a moment, trying to suss out what this was about before either one of them had to make things any more awkward. 

 

“Depends on what you’re after. Something urgent?”

 

“Something like that…” her voice seemed to catch in her throat. She didn’t seem to eager to relent beyond that, so Arthur decided to go about his business checking the letters left for him on end table. What else could he do, really?

 

“Why didn’t you ever take me to bed, Arthur?” The question fell out of her mouth with all the grace of a horse turd and Arthur choked a bit. “All the others do, from time to time. That Bill Williamson-”

 

“Sweetheart,  _ please _ . Last thing I want to know right now is the gory details of Bill’s conduct in bed.” 

 

“Well, anyway...I’m just curious…?” 

 

She looked up at him with those big inquisitive doe eyes, her freckled cheeks growing visibly red and hot. Arthur wasn’t blind, he knew  _ full-well _ why Dutch or any man would’ve pinpointed her as their new favorite; she was a pretty young thing, smart and somehow still ripe with a charming naive innocence that shouldn’t have been hers. Mary Beth always had a quality about her that Arthur would sometimes wonder wouldn’t have attracted his courting efforts in a different life, different reality, but as it was…

 

“I fail to see why it matters, but...I don’t know. I suppose I see y’all these days as more than that. Using one of you as I would my hand would feel wrong. Just not to my taste, I suppose.” 

 

Now  _ he _ was likely the one blushing and without a hat to cover it up. 

 

“It wouldn’t be like that. We’re always happy to oblige.” 

 

Arthur just shrugged and still didn’t bother to look up from the mail he wasn’t really paying any attention to. This whole conversation had taken a turn for the uncomfortable; he didn’t like exposing his vulnerabilities for all the world to see, even if the  _ world _ was just one inquisitive woman he knew wouldn’t judge. His efforts to keep his eyes off her went in vain, as she’d gotten up from the bed and gently taken the letters from him. 

 

“I know you’re lonely sometimes, I can see it in your eyes.” She was close enough for her breath to be hot on his cheek. She also saw that one of the opened letters (that he must have read over at least 20 times now) was from Mary. “Will you be seeing her again then…?”

 

“I don’t know.” Arthur took the letter from her and tossed it on to the side table, then tried to put some distance between them. 

 

“She doesn’t deserve you, Arthur. I hope you know that. You don’t think you are, but you’re kind and selfless and you have the biggest heart of anyone I know. Don’t let her break you.”

 

Mary Beth always had a flair for the dramatic, always made things out to be better than they were. He wasn’t sure if she was gifted with an insight he could never hope to understand or if she was just hopelessly naive, but he often leaned towards the latter. He also didn’t like people talking about his roundabout with Mary, even if they were kind about it. 

 

“I’m not the man you think I am.” 

 

“Yes, you are.” 

 

She came up from behind and placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, nuzzled gently into his neck and  _ god _ how long had it been since he’d felt the tender touch of a woman? She was right on one account, he had been lonely- which wasn’t right, because he had a whole family, so many people that would die for him and yet he could only want for more. He could’ve given to the temptation, he knew, he could’ve let himself become the man she labored under the delusion that he was, if only for a night, but instead he favored the anger that boiled up from his chest.

 

He seized her wrist and turned on her.

 

“You want me fuck you then, is that it?” He backed her up against the wall. “You want me to use you like Bill? Like fuckin’ Micah? Or do you want me to  _ pretend _ to make love to you, treat you like a virgin on a wedding night, as you know damn well Dutch will do in due time?”

 

“Arthur…” 

 

Those doe eyes went wide with a genuine fear and despite himself Arthur melted. Maybe she was right after all. 

 

“I’m sorry…” He pulled her against him in something of a hug, but maybe  _ desperate embrace _ was closer to the truth. 

 

“Oh, Arthur…” 

 

She held him back, petted his hair and while all the reasons why none of this should be happening still hung thick in the air, he was too weak to say or do anything to stop this. He needed her now, whatever she was willing to give. 

 

“Let me take care of you,” she whispered against his ear. “Just one night.”

 

“You’re Dutch’s woman now.” Just a statement of fact, something she could do with as she pleased.

 

“No...not yet. He hasn’t asked me anything properly. Let me take care of you.” 

 

“No,” he said after a time, taking her hand. She looked all but heartbroken. “Let  _ me _ take care of  _ you _ .”

 

He brought the hand he held to his lips and kissed the inside of her wrist, feeling the pulse quicken as he did so. It didn’t make any sense that all this could get her so riled up, but then again, he  _ supposed _ , no one had treated her tenderly as he had every intention now to do. He dotted hot, lingering kisses all the way up her arm to her neck and here he spent some time, careful not to leave a telling mark but enough to make her keen softly and cling to him. 

 

Arthur took this opportunity to undo the laces on the back of her corset, fumbling only slightly with how tightly she was bound. 

 

“That’s not-...you don’t have to…” she whined, half-hearted, but he wouldn’t have it. Maybe the others had just taken to hiking up her skirts and getting it over with quickly, but that wouldn’t be the style of tonight.

 

“Oh no, darlin’, we’re gonna do this right.” 

 

The corset was eventually shucked off like any discarded corn husk. She kissed him- long, slow and deep and he moaned into her mouth despite himself- as she made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, then he, her chemise. He laid her out on the bed real gentle, in nothing now but her stockings, flushing from tip to toe, and Arthur wondered that heaven wasn’t right here before him. 

 

“You are... _ something _ …” he managed. She’d likened him to a ‘romantic poet’ once, but Arthur assumed a writer would have something better to say to capture this beauty. Or maybe the words didn’t exist in any language. 

 

Anyway, she didn’t seem to care. 

 

“So are you…” She ran her hands over his bare shoulders, chest, the fresh scar left from the O’Driscoll debacle. “I’ve always thought so.” 

 

He wanted to ask why she didn’t say something earlier, but maybe it had been because of Mary. Or apprehension. He supposed it didn’t much matter now, this wasn’t the time for conversation. 

 

He threw off his boots as subtle as he knew how, then undid his fly and paused before exposing himself completely. 

 

“You sure this is what you want…?” The visible bulge pressing against his zipper was evidence enough that  _ he _ did, but he felt it only the gentlemanly thing to do to make sure  _ she _ did. 

 

“Arthur, please…”

 

She sounded desperate, like a woman stranded on the road, and he knew he couldn’t question this any longer. He thus pulled down the last remaining vestige of clothing and was there before her, manhood painfully turgid and already moistened with precum. He worried he wouldn’t last as long as she deserved, but damn it all, he’d try his best. 

 

She didn’t say much to this, she didn’t need to- breath catching in her throat at the sight as a stray, porcelain hand snaked down to touch herself. 

 

“Let me,” he obliged, sidling in on the bed in front of her, parting her legs, rubbing her thighs as gentle as he knew to be, and leaning down to bring her pleasure with his mouth. He was glad she didn’t bother with social niceties this time, telling him he  _ didn’t have to _ or some nonsense to that. She weaved her fingers through his hair and massaged her breast as he licked, kissed and sucked, obviously trying her hardest not to make any noise. 

 

It didn’t take very long for her to peak, tightening her grip in his hair and biting a finger so as to stifle the moan that would’ve alerted everyone to what was going on. 

 

“Oh my lord…” she breathed as he pulled away, long enough to position himself over her. He ran a hand down her side, thumb over her ribs and hip. 

 

“You okay there, sweetheart?” 

 

“Better than. Fuck me now. _ Please _ .” 

 

He wasn’t sure he had ever heard Mary Beth cuss until now, but it did something to him. No, he wasn’t going to last long at all, but what hope did he have against such a creature as she? 

 

“As the lady wishes.” He hiked a leg up over his hip, wet his cock with a bit of saliva on his palm just to be sure, and positioned himself at the opening of her heat. Just  _ that _ much was intoxicating. 

 

“Please, Arthur,  _ please _ …” 

 

He was scared to hurt her, though maybe he shouldn’t have been. He also knew this had to be low and slow for fear of his own premature ruin. As carefully as he knew how he eased inside of her, gasping into her neck at how fucking tight and goddamn hot she was, almost too much for any man to handle. 

 

She dug her fingers into his back, for once not keen to be patient- that was fine, neither was he. 

 

Arthur wasn’t sure he loved her perse, not in the way that he should have to be making love to her as was now. His thoughts in that area seemed wholly devoted to Mary, but he wondered if things had been different, if he’d seen Mary Beth for who she was before another led his heart astray... maybe. She was kind and smart and ever determined to see the best in everyone, why shouldn’t he love her? The world wasn’t fair, it never made sense. 

 

But this- being entangled in one another now, the push and pull of one another’s bodies, the desperation shared between them... _ that _ felt right. It was the first thing that had felt right in a long, long time. 

 

“Harder, harder, Arthur,  _ please _ …!” she would beg in a strangled moan against his ear and he would gladly oblige, rolling his hips into and getting lost in her.  

 

“I’m not-...” he attempted after a time, kissing her neck, lips, anything that could bring him some kind of grounding. “I can’t-...” 

 

She understood, taking his face in her hands. 

 

“It’s okay...it’s okay, we’ll go together,” she assured. “Arthur...look at me.” 

 

They held one another’s gaze as he finally peaked with a somewhat muffled groan, she following close behind. 

 

He tried not to collapse all his weight on her as he lowered down, spent, but she didn’t seem to mind having him there, once again caressing his hair and back. 

 

“Thank you,” she whispered and he had to look up at her with incredulous eyes. 

 

“Don’t  _ thank _ me. Dear god, woman.” 

 

He rolled to the side and wrapped an arm around her, kissed the back of her neck and made her giggle. 

 

“I should probably be thanking you...but let’s leave that out, shall we? Feels too formal.”

 

“You’re right,” she agreed, taking his hand and lacing his fingers with her own. “Let’s just have this moment. It’s ours.” 


End file.
